His green eyes roam my face for a moment before he speaks.
“I wanted you,” he says casually in that way only Hunter Storm can pull off. “I’ve never stopped wanting you, Winter.”
Butterflies roll through my stomach.
I wanted you.
So fucking casual. So Hunter Storm.
And God, I wanted him too. I want him right this very second.
I fist my hands and shove them under my thighs to stop from reaching for him.
“It’s been years,” I say softly.
“I know how long it’s been.” He rubs the slight scruff on his jaw. “I’ve counted the years since you left knowing I fucked it up by not talking things through with you before you moved. And we had that big blow-up over nothing your last night here, which I’m also sorry for.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Hunt. That fight was a two-way street thing. Really, it was just a way for us to make a clean break. We were kids. And we both had big plans. If we’d hung onto what could have been…”
“I get it.” His jaw hardens. “I had to sacrifice everything to get where I am. I come from nothing, and hockey was my one shot to make something of myself. For my future. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t think of you. A lot.”
“You know what the truth is?” I can barely get the words out through the lust coursing through me. “I thought of you all the damn time in New York City, Hunter. Every. Single. Day.”
He turns his head slowly until his gaze locks with mine. His green eyes darken to the color of a pine forest, and we stare at each other. Three heartbeats pass. Until—
With a low growl, Hunter stands up off the couch and then resettles himself next to me. His mouth lands on mine so fast I should have been surprised again.
But this time, I’m ready for him.
My lips part, and Hunter’s hot tongue slides inside.
His hand tangles in my hair, and I ease closer to him.
“Fuck, Winter.” He groans into my mouth and kisses me harder.
When one of his hands goes to my breast and the other closes around my waist, it’s like I have an out-of-body experience.
I split in half. I want Hunter—that will always be true.
I’ve survived an attack—that is also true.
And as Hunter and I continue to make out, my two truths are at war with each other.
I’m broken. I’ll always be broken.
I pull away from his hands on me.
Desperate for him not to notice, I tug at his shirt until he drags it over his head. And then, I kiss my way down his neck and across his bare, muscled chest. I keep going down his chiseled abs until I reach the waistband of his jeans. Hunter sucks in his breath and mutters my name as I undo the snap and lower the zipper, and then I leave the couch and drop to my knees on the carpet.
Kneeling in between Hunter’s legs, I shove my hand inside his boxer briefs and release his massive erection.
“Win…” he says in warning.
But I’m not listening to any warnings to slow down. I’m full steam ahead.
I get my mouth on him, and he jerks against my tongue. I close my mouth tight around his thick length and take as much of him as I can inside me. When he hits the back of my throat, I start gagging.
“Hey.” Hunter takes hold of my shoulders and does everything he can to push me off of him. “Winter.”
